


Let Me Trash Your Love

by Katraa



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Angst, Fanfic of Fanfic, Highschool AU, M/M, Relationship Woes, Slow-dancing, Smut, fluff??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katraa/pseuds/Katraa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because slow-dancing shouldn't be one of those benefits that comes with this type of arrangement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Trash Your Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alliterations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliterations/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Keep Back What the Clouds are Hiding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/741402) by [alliterations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliterations/pseuds/alliterations). 



> FOR ALLITERATIONS FOR HER COLLEGE GRADUATION! 
> 
> This is technically fanfic of her fanfic series, "Bang the Doldrums" and I probably did it absolutely no justice, but hopefully it's acceptable enough!

“Do you ever wonder why we learn geometry in the first place?”

Neku’s seated himself on Joshua’s bed, on his stomach, elbows propped up, textbook open, legs swaying back and forth in the air behind him. The pencil he had been using earlier, now dulled down to barely useable, is messily shoved over his ear, entangled in the locks of orangey brown spiked in a suspiciously similar fashion to his favorite manga hero. Joshua is situated at his desk with his laptop, half paying attention. When he hears Neku’s question, however, he looks back over his shoulder to regard his friend with a rather inquisitive stare.

“Hm? What brought this up?”

“The fact I’ve been doing proofs for the last hour?” Neku answers as he clicks his tongue in distaste.

There’s a breathy giggle at the response he is given and Joshua crosses his legs, tossing the other a nearly enigmatic smirk. It makes Neku shiver down to the core.

“Are you asking me to do it for you?”

“…No. I’m asking you why we have to learn geometry when we aren’t ever going to use it.” Neku rolls his eyes and subsequently rolls his entire body over so he’s lying on his side, using the uncomfortable textbook as a makeshift pillow. At least now it has some semblance of a purpose.

It starts out as a hum, “I suppose to test your endurance and ability to cram as much as you possibly can into that thick skull of yours,” and it ends in a downright snigger.

Neku is used to this by now, this playful, nearly intoxicating, jesting of theirs. Ever since that had started – whatever it was, whatever he wished to call it, because some days it felt like more than two friends getting each other off and some days it just felt convenient – Neku found it nearly impossible to have any normal conversation with Joshua in private that didn’t result in some sort of wordplay. It would start innocent enough and then detour into absolute, sheer madness by the end.

“Are you calling me dense?” He never used to answer questions with questions, and he’s almost surprised at how many of Joshua’s quirks and tendencies he’s picking up, but then again, he should be more surprised with how often he picks up Joshua’s clothes off the floor when they’re done and hands them over to his pale and perfect friend without a single shred of embarrassment.

“Why, Neku… why would I ever think to do such a thing?”

“…You’re an ass,” Neku decides as he closes his eyes and tries to work out the math problem. Of course, that’s also an attempt in vain because now he’s just thinking about Joshua and no wonder his grades have surprisingly been not-so-stellar lately.

What happens next completely catches him off guard.

There’s suddenly a tie smacking his upside the face and he starts, almost falls off the bed, and abruptly sits up. Joshua is still seated innocently at his desk, twirling his foot around in half-circles, wearing that smug little grin he always seems to wear when they’re alone. Neku’s almost honored that no one else ever sees it in the same way he does. It gives him hope when he really shouldn’t ever label it as such.

“What was that for?” Neku asks as he picks up the tie and gives it a glare. It smells like Joshua, like lavender and perfection, and he frowns, silk sliding about in the spaces between his fingers. What would it be like to have Joshua’s fingers there, too, gently, holding simply for the sake of holding?

“You weren’t paying attention.” Joshua shrugs and purses his lips together. Perhaps it’s just that simple. His eyes eventually dart up to the ceiling and then he’s speaking again, “Say Neku…”

He’s never, ever liked that tone of voice, if only because it always led to something. He probably should have liked it, though, given that the things it led to often involved him moaning out the other's name, panting, sweating, face red, and he really, really needed to stop this before it got worse, got heavier, became too much of a weight on his shoulders.

“Yes?”

“Mother and Father are dragging me to a gala this weekend,” Joshua begins and hope swells in Neku’s chest, “and unfortunately, their friend’s daughter is going to be there and Mother has informed me it is only proper if I ask her to dance.” The hope crashes and burns and explodes in shades of purple.

“Oh.” Neku wrinkles his nose and he really ought to not feel jealous. It’s silly. “Cool, I guess.”

“Not ‘cool’.” Joshua rolls his eyes at the colloquialism and drops his feet down to the ground, leaning forward in his computer-chair to give Neku a look of dissatisfaction. “You know how much I hate these things, Neku.”

“Yeah.” Neku knows all too well. “Is there any way you can skip out?”

“No, unfortunately.” It’s the curse of being from a well-to-do family.

“Sucks.” Neku wishes it wasn’t like this, wishes he didn’t have to share Joshua with high society. But then again, was Joshua’s his to share to begin with? They were just friends with benefits, friends that were hormone-ridden and desperate for something that wouldn’t shatter and break like precious china.

  
“Mhmm…” Joshua trails off. “To be fair, I haven’t danced in years, now. Mother signed me up for lessons when I was eleven, but since then, I haven’t had to exercise my expertise.”

“Expertise,” Neku echoes, snorting. It’s enough to make Joshua’s frown grow. “Guess you better youtube it up.”

“I had a better idea.”

“Take more lessons?” Neku wonders. When he receives no response, the gears in his head begin to turn, begin to work, to turn, and he sees Joshua’s smirk reappear as a look of understanding crosses his own face. What a complete and utter jerk, what an asshole for suggesting something so intimate, something so not just full of lust. Neku almost feels sick to his stomach that Joshua would even do such a thing without meaning it.

But it fades quickly as the realization that maybe, just maybe, he does mean it, and even if he doesn’t, it’s another convenient excuse to be close to him, to almost affectionately brush his hair back, to smile, to take in his every scent, curve, habit.

“You think I can dance.” Neku shakes his head in utter dismay, chewing on the inside of his lip. He’s nervous. “Dude, that’s such a bad idea.”

“Two left feet?” Joshua giggles and he’s already on his feet, hands on his hips, total akimbo style.

“Yeah. Didn’t I ever tell you I was born that way?”

Joshua’s smirk hasn’t fled and he’s suddenly very, very close, right at the bedside, peering down at Neku with a predatory look. Neku isn’t sure if Joshua is about to grab him or pounce.

“I’ll teach you. Besides, what better way of learning than through teaching?” Joshua seems awfully confident about this.

“You’ll spend days teaching me,” Neku deadpanned, uncomfortably rolling his shoulders in a shrug. He’s self-conscious all of a sudden, afraid of letting it all spill out.

“It’s just a basic waltz, Neku.” Joshua’s nearly pouting and his hand slides off his hip to extend in the open air between them. “It’s not that hard.”

“If it isn’t so hard, why do you need practice?” Neku regrets saying that because the moment the words are out of his mouth, he realizes he may be shooting down his one and only chance of dancing with the friend he’s been crushing so hard on. His stomach knots and his mouth goes dry.

“You know I hate not being perfect at something,” Joshua says, and it sounds like an excuse.

Neku buys it, if only because it’s easier than having that conversation, and stands up. “You owe me lunch for this.”

“Mmm, I’m sure I’ll owe you a great deal more than that,” Joshua all but purrs, and Neku feels himself blush up to his ears. He’s certain that Joshua says these things half the time to make him flustered, make him scorch a deep, searing red, but he’s oddly okay with that. It just means that Joshua likes seeing him like that.

“Yeah, but your parents are home,” Neku says, mouth still so, so dry, and he tenses as Joshua’s hand slides up on his shoulder, the other lingering between them.

“Tomorrow, then,” Joshua says and it’s in that final-tone of his. It’s set in stone and Neku makes a mental note to bring an extra pair of boxers to school with him tomorrow, just in case. His heart is beating out of his chest, too.

“Ok,” Neku says quietly and finally catches on that he should probably take Joshua’s hand that is curling and uncurling fingers in a rather impatient fashion.

Joshua is cool to the touch, very unlike their usual bouts of sex that are warm and sweaty. For some reason, it feels even more intimate than claiming Joshua’s mouth in his own. Neku shifts restlessly as he looks beyond Joshua to the other’s laptop, trying to find something else to talk about.

“You’re not going to put on any music?” Neku finally asks because anything else is too dangerous.

“Of course not.” Joshua smirks. “It’s just a simple waltz, as I’ve said. Just listen to me and you’ll fall into rhythm.”

“That’s what you think,” Neku sighed but nodded nonetheless. Nervously, his gaze flicks back to Joshua and he’s so, so close to him. He’s never noticed before, either, how well their hands fit together and how easy it would be to affectionately brush his hand through Joshua’s hair for no reason other than to revel in how soft it is.

Once they start dancing, Neku realizes that it’s doing more than just making his heart beat – it’s making him fall harder, faster, and his mind is spinning and spinning around. Ever since that piano concert, ever since those times after school with eager mouths and even more eager hands, ever since that day that he had confessed to wanting ‘something’ with Joshua, it had been a downward spiral. This, this was only adding to the speed of that spiral and Neku realized that no matter how badly he wanted off the ride, he was in for the long-haul.

Joshua’s surprisingly a good teacher and Neku’s even more surprisingly a fast learner. Perhaps it’s because Neku has devoted so much of his life to music that stepping in time to a silent beat is second nature. Then again, the fact that they are both in sync with a beat, a melody that the ear cannot hear says more than the fact that they are hand-in-hand, waltzing very slowly around Joshua’s bedroom on a Monday afternoon.

It’s nice, simply moving in time like this, and Neku shyly sneaks glances across at his dance partner. Joshua’s eyes are half-lidded and the violet hues that usually are so full of life, so full of snark and intelligence, are now filled with a look of serenity. It’s beautiful.

Neku’s fairly certain that the hand that is holding Joshua’s is shaking as they move about, his legs not failing him yet. Either Joshua is not commenting on the sweaty palms or he simply doesn’t care. Either way, Neku is thankful.

It’s about five minutes of dancing later that Joshua has stopped repeating the steps aloud and opts to rest his head very gently on Neku’s shoulder. The pace slows and they fall into a more intimate waltz.

If Neku’s mind hadn’t been spinning before, it certainly is now.

The fragile something between them seems put out on display and Neku’s stomach is knotting again. His eyes dart around the room and he notices the dried lilies he had purchased for Joshua that fateful evening. God, he’s such a mess.

“Neku,” Joshua speaks up finally, voice very close to his ear, breath tickling the small hairs there. “Would you care to spend the night?” It’s a giggle and it definitely means that Joshua has things in mind and the fact he’s asking that means that his dance, as nice as it is, isn’t leading into any territory that Neku had hoped it would.

No.

But it’s still nice and the fact that lips are very gently brushing up the curve of his neck, teeth at his ear seconds later, makes the thought of disappointment disappear for good. Neku gasps and his eyes shut, mind turning off. As much as he had wanted to spark a conversation about all of this, about possibly taking that scary step further into the unknown, he’s content with simply touching for now. Besides, Joshua’s gotten him so worked up over the course of the day with those damned looks that it’s hard not to want this as bad as he does.

“Your parents wouldn’t… mind on a weeknight?” he laughs, nearly shaking as Joshua works at his earlobe. His knees feel weak.

“We’re working on a project for class,” Joshua explains, the lie coming out so flawlessly, so smooth, that Neku is convinced of its truth for a split second, “and you need to stay late to get it done. We’re also recording something for a powerpoint companion part of the project, so it’s probably best if we aren’t disturbed.”

Neku almost envies how quick Joshua is on his feet, but that thought is also fleeting as a hand slides down his side, almost more… affectionately than usual. He thinks its just a funny trick his mind is playing on him as he moves his hand around Joshua to slide down the small of his back, fingertips playing at the hem of his shirt.

“I’ll stay,” he says, decidedly, and nearly groans as Joshua’s hand goes from his side down to the front of pants in a split second. There’s a palm there, urgent and insistent, and he’s being felt-up through his pants.

It’s hard to stand and Neku arches his hips forward into the very inviting gesture. A moan dies on his lips as he grips Joshua’s hips for support, trying to keep himself stable as Joshua finds a rhythm, palm rubbing in methodical circles as his teeth ravage down Neku’s neck. This is likely the first bout of activity of many for the night. It’s not too bad of a thought.

“Hope…that dancing doesn’t always do this to you,” Neku jokes, all but moans, and his heart drops when he registers what he just said. That almost sounded possessive, almost sounded worried, almost sounded hopeful to the idea that this was an exclusive deal.

“It’d be quite the problem if it did.” Joshua brushes off any implications that Neku possibly could have meant, and he goes back to marking up his neck in places that no one will ever see. Neku sometimes wishes those marks would be more visible, would be available for any inquiring mind to glance upon.

And as Joshua’s hand slips down in his pants, beyond his boxers, warm fingers curling around his already growing erection, Neku wonders if this will ever be more than just two teenage friends messing around. Neku wonders if he is childish, is stupid to want more from his best friend. Neku wonders if Joshua has noticed the longing looks that last too long for lust. Neku wonders if Joshua is simply ignoring it all, hoping Neku will get over it, hoping that Neku won’t bring it up so he won’t have to turn him down, reject him, and end this beautiful, beautiful thing. And Neku wonders why it can’t be, because what’s so wrong with wanting to be with someone.

His heart aches, probably more than his erection that Joshua is just teasing and keeping him from orgasm.

There’s a tickling in the back of his mind, a voice that, if Neku strains hard enough to try and hear, is whispering about first loves and first heartbreaks and the dangers of falling for best friends.

Neku pushes all of that away and kisses Joshua, hard, because the easiest way of convincing oneself of something that isn’t true is by actively indulging the fantasy.

It’s so beautifully ugly.


End file.
